The Temporary Insanity Of Kyon
by Orthodoxy
Summary: After Kyon misses an SOS Brigade meeting Haruhi assigns Itsuki the task of overseeing his daily affairs and assessing his behaviour. Implied Itsuki x Kyon.


**The Temporary Insanity Of Kyon**  
(with apologies to Gunther Grass)

_Granted: I am an inmate of a mental hospital; my keeper is watching me, he never lets me out of his sight..._

"Is this supposed to be a statement or a confession?"

"It would probably be best if you read the whole thing..."

"I'm not finishing this, it makes me sound like I'm the one with the problem here."

"It seems that is Suzumiya's privilege to decide."

"And yours, apparently."

"Nagato thought a charge of temporary insanity would be the best way out of the situation for you, considering that the alternative would have been desertion. I'm probably easier to talk your way around than a death penalty."

"Some people consider death a release."

"Oh," Itsuki seemed pleased with this. He shifted in his seat, smiled, looked away with an ambigious expression just long enough to stretch the silence out almost into awkwardness, "there's more than one way to skin a cat."

It was a strange enough turn of phrase for Itsuki that Kyon almost wanted to say something in response. Quickly enough he thought better of it. It always seemed best not to pursue Koizumi too far down any particular road, no matter how innocently they started out; as ancient maps put it - "THERE BE MONSTERS".

"What about the others? Don't they get turns guarding me?"

Itsuki was apologetic.

"Suzumiya was quite precise that I should be assigned to you until there is sufficient reason to reassess your case. She said she would have seen to it herself if she didn't have the affairs of the entire SOS Brigade to oversee."

Affairs? What affairs? Kyon's mind boggled.

"Enough. What does that mean for me?"

"I'm not really sure. I think we'll muddle through, though."

"All right, here's a solution that will work for both of us; just arrange this so it doesn't actually have to happen. Let's not and say we did."

"Ah, in any other situation I'd agree, however if Suzumiya should discover that there is a concerted effort within the SOS Brigade to deceive her there could be..." he tilted his head to one side as if by way of an apology and smiled, disarmingly, "complications."

Kyon was silent for a moment.

"Fine." Somewhere in the middle of this he had crossed his arms and was staring intently through the club room's windows. It was true though, nothing Koizumi had said was in itself a lie. Not that that reassured him. Coming from Itsuki it sounded more like an excuse than anything else.

"All right, I'm going," Kyon had stood up, schoolbag in hand. Itsuki seemed passive, watching him but not moving from his place at the table. "Whatever you do is your business."

Kyon didn't even see him move as he walked out the door. At the end of the adjoining corridor he paused, glancing back, waiting for some sign of him. When nobody emerged from the club room he wondered if he'd misunderstood the conversation. Perhaps that had been Koizumi's intention. Of all of them Kyon had resigned himself to understanding the esper the least; which was, he thought, saying something.

Despite his cautious relief the incident agitated him. It was hard to shake off the impression around Koizumi that he was being toyed with, not that he was vain or paranoid enough to take it personally. Kyon took it for granted that so far as Yuki or Mikuru had dealings with him they would have experienced the same suspicion. It was how Itsuki conducted his affairs; half in the dark, smiling.

Again, it was best not to dwell on the matter, he told himself. Still, he was unsettled. He didn't remember changing his shoes except that he took the opportunity to watch briefly for Koizumi while he did it. Somewhere far off in the crowd he recognised Kunikida briefly without having the desire to speak to him. He found an excuse to hang back for a moment until he was sure the boy had gone before he made his way out to the gate. The shock of seeing Itsuki waiting at the far side was enough to stop him, only for a moment, but quite completely. Their eyes met before Kyon could look away. He took a breath as if he was about to throw himself underwater and went marching straight past the esper, finding the boy at his side in the next heartbeat, matching every step.

"Whatever its flaws this club does remain the safest conduit for Suzumiya's enthusiasm," by his tone it was as if they were still back in the club room, as if the intervening minutes had never happened. He was quietly conspiratorial, his words almost hushed, leaning towards Kyon a fraction as if to avoid being overheard. "If she were to consider it a broken reed and lose favour with it..." he paused again as if going on would have been distasteful. Kyon stopped, bringing them both to a standstill. He was staring at Itsuki, unconvinced. "I'm trying to say I do empathise with your situation."

"Excellent. So I can go on from here unmolested then," as soon as he said it Kyon regretted his choice of words. He engrossed himself in a column of sky between two trees at the other side of the street, gnawing on his bottom lip as if he could wrench back what he'd said.

"My role as deputy-chief does grant me a certain degree of freedom," Itsuki admitted, leaving the sentence hanging.

A picture of disinterest, Kyon took a moment before he looked back at Itsuki, doing his best to appear almost surprised to find him still standing there. He tried exploring his tingling lip with the tip of his tongue, freezing and clamping his teeth together the moment it seemed Koizumi had noticed.

"...but perhaps not that much. Shall we?" he extended his hand and for a terrible moment Kyon thought the boy was reaching out to take his. By the time he realised Koizumi just meant to point the way down the hill he had already preemptively reared up to put as much distance between the two of them as possible without fully leaping backwards, his free hand buried in one pocket. Awkwardly he turned and began walking, Itsuki just out of sight at his side.

Neither of them spoke. For long periods Koizumi's footsteps would seem to fade away into the surrounding noise or beneath the sound of his own so that Kyon could have almost believed the boy was no longer beside him. He fought the urge to look back, winning out over himself at times as the shadowing footsteps would make themselves heard again. Other times the temptation was too great. Twice he caught himself glancing over one shoulder, his curiosity rewarded by a flicker of recognition in Itsuki's face and a following, familiar smile. Both times he was surprised by how close Koizumi seemed to be; as soon as he realised this his elbow nearest the boy felt painfully naked. More than once he imagined he felt the barest touch of something brushing against it. He wondered at first if the way he speeded up after each lapse was noticeable. Without thinking he took pains to weave as intricately as he dared through knots of people and past obstacles in a half-hearted effort to shake him off.

Still, Kyon thought in consolation, he was quiet. Whatever point Koizumi wanted to make he seemed content to make simply through his presence. Even silent he seemed to intrude in Kyon's mind, though. Kyon wondered if it would have made any difference had he been following fifty yards behind rather than right on his heels; he didn't think much. There was always going to be that quiet, knowing smile hiding something.

Kyon started, reflexively trying to tug his exposed elbow away from the hand that had alighted on it. For a second he thought with a plunging sensation in his stomach that it had happened; though he couldn't be sure what "it" was.

"The light's changed," Itsuki pointed to the crossing in front of them. Like waking up Kyon remembered himself. He nodded, business-like, starting across the road, all the time consumed by how wrapped up in his thoughts he'd become.

He was not greatly concerned that he was probably acting like an idiot; enough time with Haruhi had taught him to place a lower premium on his dignity than he otherwise might have stood for. It was, he reasoned, the price for apparently standing at the lip of the material universe and peering into the radiant abyss beyond; even though he would have denied such an overdramatic diagnosis of his condition. No, the greater worry was that he had stopped acting like himself. The customary sang froid that slept in his veins seemed to be being drawn out, drop by drop, wearing him down to his exposed nerves. Perhaps it had always been there around Koizumi, only its worst effects had been hidden by the intervention of Mikuru or Yuki or something else. He didn't know. But now, like this, with nothing to come between them and no suitable excuse for their being together to cling to...

Before he reached the far side of the road the urge to dig his heels in and stop whatever was happening had become overwhelming. Without knowing quite what he was doing or why he was doing it he found himself confronting Itsuki.

"I'm getting myself a drink," Kyon was doing his best to be matter-of-fact, quite unaware of whether he was carrying it off or not. Even so Koizumi's attention was forthcoming. "Do you want one?" Could you say something like that as if it wasn't a question, as if it wasn't an invitation? He was having second thoughts. At a flat out sprint he could reach his bike in maybe a minute, was he faster than Koizumi? Itsuki had such long legs though...

"If you're offering."

"Mmm," Kyon made an affirmative little noise, as much for his own benefit as Koizumi's. Beside the machine he set his bag down between his legs, fishing through a palmful of coins with one index finger.

"Do you have enough?" Itsuki had appeared over his shoulder to inspect Kyon's handiwork, his face typically close.

"Quite enough," Kyon said, turning his head away sharply and attempting to go on with his sorting.

"Because it just so happens..." Itsuki's voice tailed off. Something moving in the corner of his eye made Kyon look up in time to see Koizumi neatly feeding a string of coins into the machine. He gave a plaintive, strangled noise in his throat before he could properly stop himself, closing his half-open mouth as Itsuki faced him. "The usual?" He had pressed the button before Kyon even had a chance to reply. Two cans came thundering down into the tray at the bottom of the machine. Itsuki reached in and gave each one a cursory examination before holding one out to Kyon.

"Forgive me, I happened to have the right change."

"Thanks," Kyon said after a moment. He spoke slowly, deliberately, avoiding meeting Koizumi's gaze. Taking hold of the can Itsuki was offering by the slender rim at the top he attempted to lift it cleanly from the boy's fingers. As soon as it came free from Itsuki's grasp it slipped from Kyon's own, the drops of condensation on the metal finishing what his damp fingertips had begun, and dropped to the ground.

Kyon's stomach turned over. He dropped onto his haunches, faster than Koizumi, he noted, hopefully, and scrambled after the can, sighing with relief when he clamped one hand on top of it. His breath seized in his throat the moment he felt the other hand close on top of his, a coolness lingering on the fingers. It was an almost irresistable temptation to look up, to see the expression on Koizumi's face if only for a second, just to be sure. It had to be an accident. Itsuki would have to be as embarassed as he was about this, wouldn't he?

In a single movement he wrenched his hand free and straightened up, turning away from Koizumi as much as he thought he reasonably could until the boy was almost out of sight beside him. He winced as he forced the can open with one fingernail, threw his head back and drank nearly half in a single draught.

Beside him Itsuki was looking on intently, eyes half-lidded, making everything Kyon did seem clumsy and important. Kyon felt the need to clear his throat. At last Koizumi spoke.

"I've never tried that one before," he paused, meeting Kyon's eyes briefly. "Would you..."

Kyon had put the can to his lips again, without drinking. He kept it there as he spoke, his tone curt.

"What?"

"Would you mind if I tried some?"

Kyon spluttered in disbelief, taking a moment to wipe his mouth with the back of one hand before he answered.

"This?"

Itsuki nodded. Kyon noticed that the esper hadn't touched his own drink. He struggled for words that would never come and then, resigned, held his drink out at arm's length, head turned away as if he were bracing himself for an injection. A moment passed where the can wobbled between Kyon's fingertips, but the expected press of Koizumi's skin against his own never came. The object simply slipped from his grasp as easily as the first time. Wrongfooted, Kyon's hand hovered there for a second before he let it drop back to his side.

Despite doing his level best not to watch he found himself stealing glances from the corner of his eye as Koizumi went about drinking; the boy turning a perfectly simple act into a fetishistic ritual, finding far too much to linger over in the simple act of putting the thing to his mouth and... He could have sworn he heard a muffled noise at the back of Itsuki's throat as his lips fastened around where his own had been only a few seconds ago. Kyon felt his skin prickle. This was mortifying, what if someone was watching? He took the chance to peer around, unable to satisfy himself that someone somewhere wasn't drawing the wrong conclusions from this. In places he could see other students moving among the people and for a moment the vision of Tsuruya appearing and bearing down on them was so vivid Kyon had to tell himself grabbing Itsuki by the elbow and leading him as quickly as possible to a more quiet street was the mother of all unbelievably bad ideas.

His agitation must have shown, without pausing Itsuki had finished whatever he was doing.

"Is something wrong?" His expression was languid with delight. He held out the drink.

"What? I... no," barely, Kyon returned his attention to the matter at hand, snatching his bag up and brushing past Itsuki. "I'm going."

In half a dozen steps Itsuki had overtaken him, still holding out the drink.

"I didn't mean to hold you up."

Kyon took it back without breaking his stride, trying to hold it with his fingertips.

"You know there's no way I could have made that meeting, no matter what Haruhi thought. I had a class," Kyon meant it more as an accusation than an excuse. He hoped it came across as such.

"Yes."

"Are you saying you knew?"

"I'm saying it was no secret."

Kyon slung the bag over his shoulder and put his head down, lengthening his stride, not stopping until he reached his bike.

"Ah," Itsuki sighed, "it seems I can't follow you any further." He watched as Kyon wrenched his bicycle free and began maneuvering it forcefully out onto the street.

"Seems so," Kyon replied, awkward in his haste to mount the thing, one foot braced against the pedal in readiness. His escape half complete he afforded himself the luxury of pausing a moment, looking back over his shoulder at Itsuki. His heart was still pounding.

The effect of whatever the esper thought he had just done had not worn off, he still seemed faintly amused, his attention caught by something. Kyon realised he was still holding the can Koizumi had handed back to him. The urge to throw the thing into the gutter rose in him for a second, checked only by how transparent such an action would be. As suddenly as it arrived it had passed: it seemed a needless thing to do. Kyon settled back onto the saddle. Robbed of his immediate power to trouble Kyon Itsuki could almost have passed for anyone else he knew. Idly he toyed with the idea of saying something. He was silent, unable to think of anything.

"Until tomorrow, then," Itsuki said suddenly, content. He made a characteristically vague gesture with one hand and turned away. Kyon caught himself about to reach out and call after the boy, bewildered for a second at what he thought he was doing. He balled the hand that was halfway to reaching out into a fist and pressed the knuckles into his thigh. In another minute Itsuki had disappeared from sight.

Out of nowhere Kyon felt angry, as if he'd been cheated. He settled back over the handlebars of his bike, his stomach tight. The leg he had set one one pedal was trembling slightly, his knee bouncing up and down; it stopped as he planted it back on the concrete. Had he really wanted to say something to Koizumi? What was there to say anyway? Perhaps it was just that he had been outmaneuvered again. Part of him would have enjoyed the meagre power of being able to bid Koizumi goodbye and then shoot off out of sight; but somehow, without even trying, Itsuki had had the final word.

Without looking Kyon tossed the can into the road: a quick, furious little spasm he wasn't proud of but felt he needed anyway. He barely heard the thing land, already cycling away, immediately feeling better for it. He lost track of his thoughts briefly and when he remembered himself again his mood had passed. A strange kind of satisfaction settling over him he set his teeth and drove the bike on until his legs ached and he was panting for breath.

It was evening, warm and still. The memory of what had just happened, still clear in his mind, seemed to belong to someone else. The intense atmosphere that he remembered had taken on the complexion almost of a joke. Esper or no, Koizumi was only a man. Whatever else it was over and he had escaped, there was no appetite in him to think on it any more. His mind wandered, cheerfully. Somewhere in the middle of this he became aware of a gnawing in his stomach. He smacked his dry lips; he was thirsty.

--end


End file.
